


Separate Ways

by searchingwardrobes



Series: Fandom Birthday Playlist [12]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Falling In Love, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 22:43:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18417398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/searchingwardrobes/pseuds/searchingwardrobes
Summary: Killian Jones somehow becomes a constant companion on Emma and Henry's spring break vacation, helping them navigate their first time in a foreign country. But Emma can't let herself feel too much since she knows how this has to end: the two of them going their separate ways. If only her heart would get the memo.





	Separate Ways

**Author's Note:**

> * For Sherlockian Whovian on her birthday  
> * Based on the song by Journey as well as my recent trip to Colombia

_ True love won’t desert you. You know I still love you, though we touched and went our separate ways. _

Emma’s toes dug into the warm brown sand and she couldn’t quite believe she had done it – she was in a foreign country, and best of all, she was sharing it with Henry. 

Mary Margaret and David had almost hit the roof when they found out she was going to Colombia of all places on vacation. 

“What about the drug cartels?”

Emma rolled her eyes at David. “First of all, there’s crime everywhere, even in Boston. Besides, its 2019, not 1992.”

Mary Margaret blinked, still in shock. “But it’s a third world country!”

“Which is exactly why a 4-star hotel costs forty US dollars a night!”

Granted, the rooms ended up being small with few amenities, but so were hotels in New York City and Boston. It was clean, that was the important thing. 

“Can you believe we’re this close to the beach?” Henry exclaimed as he plopped down in the sand beneath their cabana. A cabana that only cost seven US dollars for the whole day. Ok, so the cabana was really just a plastic tarp held up by sticks, but still . . .  _ seven dollars _ !

“Right kid?” Emma grinned as she settled into a white plastic chair. “Can you believe the view?”

“I hardly can,” Ruby grinned wolfishly as she eyed some handsome Colombian men over the rim of her sunglasses. The men were shirtless and were kicking a soccer ball around.

Ruby had been roped into coming by David and Mary Margaret. Not that the brunette minded, especially when the married couple footed the bill. 

“You need someone to look after you,” David had said. 

“By Ruby?” Emma had screeched. “This is a family vacation for me and Henry, not an opportunity for Ruby to hit the clubs for a solid week.”

“Hey,” Ruby had protested  sarcastically ,”I  resemble that remark!” 

“I’m serious, Rubes!”

“On my honor,” she swore, with her hand to her heart, “I will behave like Mary Margaret at Disney World.”

MM rolled her eyes at Ruby then grasped Emma’s hand. “Please take Ruby. I can’t travel in my third trimester, or I would go myself.”

Emma sighed, relenting. “Ok. If you promise not to have that baby while we’re gone!”

Mary Margaret smiled as she squeezed Emma’s hand. “Deal.”

“I’m getting in the water!” Henry declared as he stood and tossed his t-shirt down on the sand.

Emma eyed the water, then looked up and down the beach. “ Uhh  . . . sweetie, maybe that’s not such a good idea.”

Henry gaped at her. “Why not? This is a beach vacation!”

Emma gnawed on her lower lip. How should she put this? “I just don’t see any . . . tourists in the water.”

Henry eyed the water, crowded with people. “How do you know none of them are tourists?”

Ruby threw her head back and laughed. “Oh my God, Emma, seriously? It’s the ocean!”

“Well, we’re not supposed to drink the water, even to brush our teeth. How am I supposed to know?”

And honestly? Everything about this trip – getting their passports, following TSA guidelines to pack their carry-ons (because she sure as hell wasn’t paying fifty bucks to check bags), going through customs, exchanging their dollars for pesos – had been full of things Emma didn’t know. Even Spanish. You kind of miss that part in the states when you run away from your foster home at fifteen. High school Spanish I and II would have at least made it easier to ask where the bathrooms were. 

Henry put his hands on his hips. “You’re telling me I can’t swim?”

She glanced over at an older couple down the beach. The man’s pale pot belly would likely be red as a lobster by noon while the white-haired woman wore a visor with the Atlanta Braves logo.

“They’re not swimming.”

Henry rolled his eyes, looking startlingly like Emma. “Probably because they are physically unable to.”

Emma heard a masculine laugh from the next cabana over but ignored it. 

“Or maybe they know something we don’t know. The water  _ is  _ murky. Maybe its polluted.”

“It’s perfectly safe despite its color.”

Emma tilted her head and shielded her eyes to see the owner of the British accent. She had to force her jaw not to fall open because he was a fine specimen. Slight of build, yet muscular, with a gorgeously masculine chest of dark hair. The smile he gave her was swoon-worthy as were his bright blue eyes and tousled black hair. 

“Killian Jones,” he introduced himself, extending his hand. 

“Emma Swan,” she said as she took it.

“Ruby Lucas,” her friend purred, leaning forward to show off her ample cleavage.

“Henry Swan,” her son finished the introductions with a wide grin, “and see Mom, I  _ can _  swim!”

“Not too far, though,” Killian warned. “The seas are rough in Caragena.” He pointed at a wall of rocks farther down the beach. “Did you notice these rock walls?”

“Yeah,” Henry said.

“Well, they put those up to create these u-shaped swimming areas, so stay inside the  _ U.  _ Understand __ what I mean?”

Henry nodded, and Killian turned his gaze to Emma. “I can keep an eye on him if you like. I’m a strong swimmer.”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “I don’t let men I just met hang out with my ten-year-old.”

Killian dipped his head in what Emma imagined was some regal British thing. “Of course, how foolish of me. Well, good day to you all.”

Then he turned and jogged towards the water. Emma watched him dive into the surf, then stand up and shake out his wonderful hair, the water glistening off his skin.

“My. God.” Ruby muttered.

Emma shook her head, realizing she was ogling the man. “Ok, Henry, let’s go swimming.”

She hesitated, however, as her feet touched the surf. Henry plunged ahead of her, already jumping the waves. Emma looked down, disconcerted by the fact that she couldn’t see through the muddy water.

“It’s just because the sand is brown.”

Emma startled as she looked up into the wet face of Killian Jones. Droplets of water clung to the scruff on his face, an attractive feature she had failed to notice earlier. 

“Oh . . . yes, well,” she was  _ never _  tongue-tied in front of men, damn him! “Why is it brown?” She winced as she went on babbling. “If I hadn’t felt it between my toes, I would have thought it was dirt.”

Killian gestured out towards the waves. “There are no coral reefs nearby. That’s what makes sand white.”

“Oh.” Ugh. Still tongue-tied.

He smiled at her, and she felt the urge to push him. Her immediate attraction to him was messing with her cool demeanor, and it irritated the hell out of her. If he were to crash awkwardly onto his ass in the surf, it would level the playing field. Or something.

“Mom! Come one!” Henry yelled to her.

Emma ignored the annoyingly handsome Brit and her urge to shove him. She eased herself further into the water. She also refused to watch his muscular back as he cut through the waves again. Ok, maybe she snuck a peek. A tiny one.

Killian Jones popped up out of the water halfway between her and Henry. “Afraid of the water, love?”

“Not your love,” Emma snapped, “and I’m a fan of the beach, I’ll have you know. And boats too.”

“Just not the water?” he teased.

Emma scowled at him. “Just a little nervous about what lives in it, that’s all.”

He laughed again, then had the audacity to wink. Infuriating man.

**************************************************

Emma ended up letting Henry swim with Killian Jones after all. He wasn’t kidding about the rough water, and Emma herself had never been a strong swimmer. Besides, she was right there watching the two of them from their cabana. Eventually, Henry made new friends with some other kids in the water. Killian swam nearby to keep an eye on him, and Emma’s irritation towards him started to fade. Now Henry was building sand castles with his new friends while Killian sat beside Emma. The more they chatted, the more she realized that disliking him was impossible. He was handsome, and he liked to flirt, but she couldn’t deny there was depth to him. 

Ruby was laughing and flirting while getting a soccer “lesson” from the Colombian hotties she had been drooling over earlier. Emma sighed as she watched her. 

“How do they do it?” 

“Do what?” Killian asked. 

“How do Henry and Ruby get past the language barrier? They don’t know Spanish either, yet they don’t let it get in their way. While I just feel . . . lost and stupid.”

“Maybe it isn’t just the language.”

Emma’s eyes widened in surprise as he gazed thoughtfully at her. She had the strangest feeling he could read her thoughts. 

“What I mean is,” he clarified, “Henry has always had you instilling confidence in him, so when he faces a new situation, he dives right in. Especially with you nearby.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

Killian shrugged. “It’s rather obvious. You’re an open book, love.”

What he didn’t say, of course, was that Emma’s lost feeling was about more than the language  too . She squirmed in her chair, cleared her throat, and quickly changed the subject.

“Is it just me, or are there not many tourists here?”

“Not many foreign tourists you mean. Colombians do vacation, love. Like you Americans going to F lorida?”

Emma’s face reddened as she covered her face with her hands. “Oh God, I sound like a shallow American.”

Killian chuckled. “Don’t be embarrassed. And a shallow American wouldn’t be staying in this part of Cartagena. Most Americans – and Europeans – stay in the fancy resorts on the other side of the city and take boats to the islands with white sandy beaches.”

“Oh,” Emma said, her heart sinking. She was such an idiot! “No wonder this hotel was so cheap.”

“Hey,” Killian said, leaning closer, “none of that. Why should you be embarrassed? I mean, why did you come here?”

His earnest expression put her more at ease. “I always wanted to see the world. But growing up in foster care, any vacation is practically impossible, much less to a foreign country.  So  it was my dream to see some place far away, then to share it with Henry. I started saving when he was a baby, and . . .” Emma shrugged, “this is what I could afford.”

She wasn’t surprised when Killian took the “foster kid” bomb in stride. Somehow, she got the feeling he already knew. He nodded at Henry. 

“Look at him, Swan. He’s building sand castles with Colombian children. He’s staying in a part of the city that most Americans never see. You’re  _ really  _ showing him a bit of the country, not just the tourist traps.”

Emma watched as Henry and another boy dug a canal around their castle. A little girl ran up with a cup of ocean water to fill it. She smiled as the truth of Killian’s words washed over her. 

“So,” she asked, settling back in her chair, “what brings a Brit to this part of Cartagena?”

A shadow seemed to cross over Killian’s face. “A promise,” he answered cryptically, then abruptly headed back to the water. 

*****************************************************

Emma had always prided herself on being adaptable, but being in a foreign cou ntry  for the first time in her life was challenging that assumption. After visiting the beach, she, Ruby, and Henry had walked a mile away from their hotel searching for a restaurant. Trip Advisor on her phone said a taco place was only half a mile, yet all they saw were dive bars. It felt like everyone was staring at them, and she was pretty sure she heard several chuckles along with the word  _ gringo _ . Her blonde hair and pale skin stood out like a sore thumb. They finally gave up and trudged back to the hotel restaurant. The taco stand would have been cheaper, but in American dollars, even the “fancy” hotel food wasn’t astronomical. Trouble was, they didn’t know where else to go or how to ask where restaurants were. They were eating their third meal in a row there when they saw Killian Jones again.

“Look!” Henry cried out, waving the man over. “Hey, Killian!”

“Hello, Henry.”

Ruby flashed the man a toothy grin and pushed out a chair. “Join us.”

Killian glanced at Emma. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Henry insisted.

Apparently, Emma didn’t have a vote. Yet Killian didn’t sit until he got a nod from Emma. 

“How are all of you today?” Killian asked, and Emma had to admit it was nice to hear someone besides Ruby and Henry speaking English. 

_ What did you expect, Emma? That people would speak a foreign language in their own damn country?  _ God, she  _ was  _ a shallow American.

The waitress arrived then and Killian ordered in perfect Spanish. The woman beamed at him with pleasure. Not that she hadn’t been polite to them earlier even though they ordered in slowly spoken English while pointing at the menu (which, thank God, was written in both Spanish and English). Still, Emma imagined it felt good for her to have a customer she could easily converse with.

“This is an awesome hamburger,” Henry told Killian before taking a bite, “the best I’ve ever eaten.”

“Henry, don’t talk with your mouth full, especially to a British guy!”

Killian laughed. “It’s okay, contrary to popular belief, we don’t all dine with the queen off china plates.”

“Still,” Emma mumbled as she handed her son a napkin on autopilot. As usual, he was getting ketchup all over his shirt. “And yes, the hamburger is good, but where’s the Colombian food? I didn’t travel to a foreign country to eat burgers and fries.”

Killian leaned back. “Have you been to the Old City yet?”

“The Old City?” Henry asked, licking ketchup off his fingers.

“The Old City is the best part of Cartagena, in my opinion. It’s surrounded by a fort that was built in 1536,” Killian told Henry. He turned to Emma. “I know a great restaurant there. I’d be happy to take the three of you.”

“That sounds great,” Ruby piped up, nudging Emam with her foot under the table. 

“ Umm .  . .” Emma hesitated.

“Please, Mom?” Henry asked. “It sounds cool with the fort and everything. Like  _ Pirates of the Caribbean _ !”

“Why don’t you just give us directions, Killian?”

“Mo-om, you couldn’t even find the taco stand.”

To Killian’s credit, he didn’t laugh.

****************************************************

“ So  explain the aversion to bananas, Swan.”

Emma, Henry, and Killian were walking along the top of the fort in Cartagena’s old city. Ruby had bowed out, and Emma suspected it had something to do with the soccer hunks who had been hovering around her friend since they arrived. The view was gorgeous, but the wind was brutal. Emma had to hold down her skirt with one hand her beach hat with the other. 

They had just eaten dinner at a Colombian restaurant, which had been surprisingly hard to find in Old City. There were burger places, pizza places, and Italian places by the dozen. Killian had led them past all of them and into a tiny place tucked down a side street. Emma had an  arepa  – a thick, fluffy fried corn cake topped with strips of beef, peppers, onions, and rice, then literally drowned in cheese. Which was fine by Emma – cheese, in her opinion, made everything better. Arepas could be topped with a variety of things, so Henry had ordered one with chicken. The presentation may have been a bit messy, but it had been the best thing Emma had ever put into her mouth. 

However, she had refused to even taste the side dish: fried cakes of mashed bananas. 

Emma tilted her head back so she could see Killian from under the brim of her hat. “It has to do with a snotty two-year-old who got sick all over me in one of my group homes. I will never forget the smell of banana vomit.”

Killian made a face. “No wonder you won’t eat banana.”

They both laughed. Henry exclaimed over some old canons and ran ahead of them. She had to admit that strolling here with Killian was nice. 

“Thanks for helping us order. I didn’t realize how overwhelming it would be to look at a menu and not be able to read any of it.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“Hey, Killian!” Henry shouted. “Did they shoot pirate ships with these canons?”

He ruffled Henry’s hair, and Emma’s breath caught at the sight. 

“Perhaps, lad, but I have a feeling they were shooting more at the navies of warring countries. Pirates preferred to attack single ships at sea.”

Henry frowned in obvious disappointment. “That’s not what it shows in the movies.”

“You like pirates?”

“Yeah!”

“Me too. That’s why I’m here in Colombia, actually. It’s part of a bucket list so to speak that my brother Liam and I came up with. We wanted to travel to as many famous pirate ports as we could.”

Emma blinked in surprise, wondering how her son so easily extracted that information from the man when Killian had brushed her off completely the day before. 

Henry tilted his head. “So where’s your brother?”

“Unfortunately, he passed before we could finish our trip.”

Emma’s heart softened at the pain in Killian’s face. Now she understood that promise he had mentioned.

*****************************************************

After that, Killian became a constant presence on their vacation. When they arrived at breakfast each morning in the hotel restaurant, he was already there saving them seats. When they headed out to the beach, Killian had already rented their cabanas for the day. He swam with them, helped them build massive sand castles, and translated flirtatious banter for Ruby and her soccer players. In the evenings when it was cooler, he took them to Old City, which was much larger than Emma had realized that first night. 

With Killian as their guide and interpreter, they explored each and every corner of its charming cobblestone streets. Henry was right, it felt like a movie set straight from Pirates of the Caribbean. 

Killian was also a huge help to Emma when paying for things. She never seemed to understand how many pesos they were asking her for, and even if she did, the denominations of the bills and coins made no sense to her. On top of that, she never could get the knack of converting the amount to US dollars in her head, so how would she know if she was being ripped off? She felt stupid and vulnerable, which was frightening. 

“You’re not stupid, Swan,” Killian told her half a dozen times a day, “it’s just all  _ foreign _ .”

She was definitely going to have a new understanding for non-English speakers when she got back to the states. 

The Old City was also full of street performers. One night, Emma was entranced by a group of dancers. The women wore colorful ruffled blouses and white skirts and danced barefoot to the rhythm of bongo and djembe drums. The men were shirtless and wore white pants. The men and women both shook their hips faster than Emma would have thought possible. 

“I bet I can shake my hips like that,” Killian teased, leaning close to whisper in her ear. He was still an impossible flirt. “How about you and I go out there and show them what we’ve got?”

His breath was hot on her neck and sent a shiver down her spine. “Please,” she scoffed, “a stiff Brit like you?”

He chuckled,  “And  what about  _ your  _ hips, Swan?”

Emma turned to look at him, her gaze lingering for a beat on his lips before locking onto his ocean blue eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

They were so close, their breaths mingled. Killian’s gaze drifted to  _ her  _ lips as he quipped back in a husky voice, “Maybe I would.”

Was Emma swaying towards him or was it the other way around?

“Mom!”

Henry’s voice sent them jumping apart. Emma’s face burned as if she’d been caught at something, but Henry seemed oblivious.

“Can I have some change for the dancers?”

“Um, sure kid,” Emma said. She handed him some, and Henry dashed off to drop them into the hat one of the dancers was holding out.

Killian gave her an awkward smile and scratched behind his ear. “Um, this side of the fort is right by the harbor.”

He gestured with his hand behind her, and Emma turned to see fishing boats and pleasure yachts bobbing nearby. 

“My ship is docked there,” Killian continued, “and I thought you and Henry might like to see it?”

“You have a boat?”

“Pirates sail ships, love, not boats.”

Emma tilted her head, giving him a teasing smile. This was the first time he had seemed nervous, and she was reveling in it. “Okay, Captain, lead the way.”

Henry was beside himself with excitement as he raced around Killian’s yacht (because regardless of what Captain Jones said, that’s what it was). Emma leaned over the railing on the top deck, then turned and regarded Killian. 

“What are you, Captain Jones? A spy? A con artist? A thief? Because here you are with a yacht, sailing around to tropical ports.” She cocked her head teasingly. “Or are you just a trust fund boy?”

She was relieved when Killian laughed, worried her tone was too bite. He sauntered into her personal space like he so often did, his tongue dragging across his bottom lip (he did that a lot too, she had noticed).

“You can clearly see I am not a boy,” he told her, laughter fading, and voice going husky. 

She gripped the railing behind her a bit tighter, her heart pounding in her chest. Just when she thought he might lower his head and kiss her, his posture relaxed, and he leaned against the railing next to her. 

“No, Swan,” he explained, tone turning serious, “like you, my brother and I spent most of our youth in foster care. When I was twelve and Liam sixteen, we finally got a foster father who broke through our armor of anger and cynicism. His name was Nemo, or that’s what he went by anyway. He was a retired Naval Admiral. And yes, he was wealthy, but it was his patience and his belief in us that made a difference.” Killian ran a hand along the railing, his gaze introspective. “He took us out on the water all the time.” He shook his head and chuckled. “I supposed it was the only way to force a conversation out of us. There was nowhere to escape.”

A smile broke out on Emma’s face as well. She’d never been that lucky in a foster home, but she could still relate. Mary Margaret had done the same thing to her on that road trip to Vermont. 

“The things he taught us through sailing,” Killian continued, “were actually life lessons. With him out on the water, we found purpose and confidence and above all, family.”

“Where is Nemo now?”

“Gone. Just like my brother. He left Liam and I this yacht when he passed. He knew about our dream trip.”

Emma watched him gaze out over the water, his jaw clenching. She reached a hand out tentatively and rested it on his forearm. He smiled at her – and slowed as an invisible cord seemed to draw them nearer to one another. 

“Killian!” Henry called out, and once again, they jumped apart, this time both of them chuckling.

They followed the sound of Henry’s voice below deck and into Killian’s quarters. They found Henry standing before a map.

“Have you really sailed to all of these places?”

Killian slapped Henry on the shoulder. “Aye, my boy. Our first stop was here, in Bermuda.”

“Wow,” Henry replied, leaning closer to the map. “I didn’t know it was so much farther north than all these other islands. Did you see the Bermuda triangle?”

“Of course. Liam and I snorkeled right by the Devil’s Head, the rock that some people claim is the tip of the triangle.”

“Awesome!”

Killian winked at Emma over Henry’s head. “Did you know that there are no true natives of Bermuda? The island was settled by the survivors of a shipwreck.”

“Mom, we’ve  _ got  _ to go to Bermuda next!”

“Thanks a lot, Captain,” Emma groaned, “you put ideas in his head. Next thing you know, he’ll want a yacht, too.”

“Come on Emma, take him.” He winked at her. “They’ve got the best rum you’ve ever tasted.”

“You take this pirate thing seriously, don’t you?”

Henry traced marks on the map. “St. Augustine, Florida; New Providence, Bahamas; Tortuga, Haiti; Port Royal, Jamaica . . . how cool! Why are you at the hotel? Why don’t you just sleep on your ship?”

“I did the first week I was here and sailed around the islands, Playa Blanca, San Bernardo . . . but I felt like I was around too many tourists. That’s why I booked a room where you and your mom are. I fell in love with The Old City, and the beach is much less crowded, thank God.”

Henry asked if Killian could show him more about how to sail the yacht, and the two of them headed above deck. Emma approached the map and ran her finger along the dots of all the ports Killian had visited, and she wondered: How many had Liam Jones seen before he died? And what exactly had happened to him?

*****************************************************

The next day, Killian took Emma, Killian, Ruby, and one of the soccer players she had been partying with named Mateo, out on his yacht. Thankfully, Ruby and her boy toy had behaved themselves. Killian took them to one of the islands with the famous white sandy beaches, and Emma found she agreed with Killian. It was too crowded and too touristy. They ended up only staying an hour, then spent the rest of the day sailing along the coast. When they got back to the hotel, they were all deliciously drowsy from the combination of sunshine and ocean air. 

Killian walked them to their room, and as soon as Henry disappeared inside, he took Emma’s elbow gently. 

“You leave the day after tomorrow, don’t you?”

Emma nodded wordlessly. He was leaning close again, his hand resting on the door frame behind her. Encroaching on her personal space seemed like his favorite  past time . The most disturbing part of it was that Emma didn’t mind. 

“I’d like to take you out before you go. Do you think Ruby might watch Henry tomorrow night?”

Emma’s pulse quickened. “I . . . I’m not sure. Ruby might want to spend her last night with Mateo or Alejo, or . . . what was the other guy’s name?”

Killian laughed as he ducked his head and scratched behind his ear. “Let me know at breakfast in the morning?”

Emma nodded, still unable to form words as he walked to the elevator.

“What do you mean, you’re not sure?” Ruby screeched in the elevator on their way to breakfast the next morning.

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you’d want to babysit your last night here.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!” Henry protested.

“Yes, you do, especially in a foreign country, kid.”

“I will gladly give up my last night with my soccer hunks to get you la -” Ruby cut off just in time, glancing at Henry, “looove, I mean, romance.”

“Yeah Mom, Killian really likes you,” Henry added, to Emma’s complete surprise. He wasn’t usually all that thrilled about the few men she’d been out with.

“But what’s the point? We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“The point is we are on a tropical Colombian vacation and you only live once, Emma,” Ruby answered with a firm nod of her head.

The elevator doors opened and Emma knew that Ruby and Henry were never going to let her get out of this date with Killian.

***************************************************

Emma had no idea why she had bothered spending all that time fixing her hair. She and Killian were strolling along the top of the fort in Old City, and her long blonde hair was whipping around her head. Why hadn’t she thought about the wind? 

Killian didn’t seem to notice, however, as they chatted easily. He laughed when Emma spat a strand of hair out of her mouth. 

“Ugh,” she grumbled, “I should have just worn it up.” 

Killian reached out to tuck it behind her ear, sending a tingle straight down her earlobe and all the way down to her toes. 

“We could get you a hat.”

Emma waved him off. If she had learned anything the past seven days, it was that Killian was much too generous with both her and Henry. “It’s fine.”

They settled down in one of the crenels of the fort wall. They seemed to be popular make out spots Emma had noticed, and she tried to tamp down the blush that threatened to rise to her cheeks as she thought about it. She pulled up her knees and looked out at the water. 

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

Killian tilted his head, “I suppose so.”

“What happened to your brother?”

Killian was silent for a long moment. So long, she worried that he wouldn’t answer. Finally, he began to speak in a voice thick with emotion.

“When we got the yacht, we started planning this trip, but it was still sort of an abstract idea. Then Liam got the diagnosis.”

He stopped and rubbed at his eyes. Emma laid a hand reassuringly on his knee.

“Liam had been having joint pain for a while. One of his knees, an elbow, his neck. He thought they were from working out at the gym until the pain got so bad it kept him up all night. It was bone cancer and by the time it was diagnosed, it had spread through his whole body.”

“I’m so sorry, Killian.” She knew what it was to be alone, but to have family – such a small one – and then lose it all? She couldn’t imagine. 

“They told us they could try chemo or radiation, but all it would do was buy him a few more months. Liam decided he would rather spend his last days on the water, on our dream trip, then suffering in the hospital.”

“How many of the ports did he make it to?” Emma asked gently. 

“Only three. We started small, stopping at Clew Bay in Ireland before heading out into the Atlantic. He died in an emergency room in St. Augustine, Florida.”

Killian sniffed and ducked his head as he wiped at his tears. “He made me promise to finish the trip.”

“How  many  more ports do you have to go?”

Killian ran a hand down his face wearily. “None that we had planned. We talked about sailing along the Barbary Coast before heading home, but . . .  “ he  caught Emma’s gaze, “honestly? Until I met you and Henry, my travels have felt mostly empty.”

*********************************************************

They headed down to the streets of Old City, and Emma was still battling the wind. Killian pulled her to a street vendor who had floppy straw hats piled up for sale. 

“Come on, Emma, let me buy you one.”

She was about to refuse when she spotted a beautiful, wide straw hat with a satiny rose-colored ribbon around the brim. She picked it up. 

“You like that one?” Killian asked with a grin.

Emma plopped it on her head. “I don’t know. Is it too big?”

Killian’s blue eyes sparkled. “No. You look beautiful.”

Emma blushed. Killian already had his wallet out, bartering with the merchant in rapid Spanish. He handed over some pesos as he winked at Emma. A gust of wind blew past, and the hat went flying off her head. She snatched it right before it hit the ground.

“You need to use the strap, love, in this wind,” he admonished lightly, pulling the elastic under her chin. His fingers traced along her jaw as he did so, and the air felt thicker than it had before.

“See? Beautiful,” he whispered.

*******************************************************

Killian took Emma to a fancy Italian restaurant that had seating outside in one of the large courtyards of Old City. Emma’s shrimp pasta was delicious, and she continued to be amazed at how comfortable she felt talking and laughing with Killian over their meal. 

Street performers circulated the courtyard; guitar players, percussionists, even a man blowing enormous bubbles to entertain the children. An older man with a guitar and a black curled mustache approached their table. He rattled off a question in Spanish. The only word Emma caught and understood was “amor.” Killian blushed – an adorable look on him actually – and said, “No, gracias.”

The man wouldn’t take no for an answer, however, and started serenading them. That alone had Emma blushing in mortification as everyone in the courtyard turned to look, but her embarrassment increased tenfold as the man began to sing – in English. 

“Kiss me, my darling. Kiss me, my love. Our love overwhelms me. Kiss me with passion, my beautiful one.”

Killian caught her eye, and they both started laughing nervously. The tips of Killian’s ears were bright red, and Emma thought he had never seemed more  irresistible . 

Emma wasn’t sure if those were the only words to the song, or if they were the only words the man knew in English. At any rate, he sang the same words through three times. By then, Emma and Killian were both ducking their heads with their hands to their foreheads. Everyone else in the courtyard, on the other hand, had begun to pick up a chant: “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Emma looked up and held Killian’s gaze, her face burning like it never had before. His lips quirked up in a half smile as he shrugged. Emma bit her lip and shrugged back. Killian’s half smile turned to a full-on grin. As the chanting grew louder, he leaned forward, and Emma leaned in to meet him. His lips met hers as cheers and hoots filled the courtyard. He kept it chaste, yet Emma head still spun at the feel of his lips soft against hers, his scruff rough against her chin. When he pulled away, the crowd clapped. He gave the guitarist a few coins, and the man said, “gracias,” before moving away.

All Emma could think was that if a simple kiss from Killian was that good, she couldn’t wait to get him alone. 

*****************************************************

On the walk home, Killian took Emma’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Such a simple gesture, but it warmed her all over. They entered the hotel, and Emma slipped off her new hat, holding it by the strap. She swung it by her side as they waited for the elevator. She and Killian had gone quiet, and they kept cutting glances at each other. The elevator dinged, and Emma was thrilled to find it empty. They stood quietly side by side, but as soon as the doors shut, Emma turned and grabbed Killian by the lapels of his shirt. Her hat fell soundlessly to the elevator floor. When she crashed her lips into his, he responded immediately, burying one hand in her hair. She let go of his shirt as she tilted her head so she could finally run her fingers through his hair, something she had longed to do since that first day on the beach. Both their mouths were open and hungry, their tongues tangling, and Emma was on fire.

Killian tightened his arm around her waist to pull her flush against him, and his hand slid from her hair to caress her jaw, then her neck. As his hand explored her collar bone, she broke their kiss with a gasp and tilted her head back. Killian’s teeth dragged across her neck, his hand cupping one of her breasts. 

“Emma,” he breathed against her skin, “are you wearing a bra?”

“No,” she gasped. 

“You minx,” he growled.

Actually, she wasn’t wearing a bra for practical reasons. Her dress was a halter and she despised strapless bras with every fiber of her being. But if Killian wanted to believe she did it to tease him, then she wasn’t about to correct him. 

The elevator opened with a ding to a blessedly empty hallway. Emma saw that they weren’t on the 22 nd  floor where her room was, but the 24 th  where Killian was staying. She hadn’t even noticed him hitting the button. 

They didn’t stop their explorations of one another as they stumbled off the elevator. Killian pressed her against the nearest wall, but then he pulled back, resting his palms on the wall behind her.

“I didn’t mean to presume,” he told her, lust darkening his eyes. “Will you stay the night with me, Emma?”

She wanted to answer him with a searing kiss and wandering hands. God, every fiber of her being pulsed with need for him. But then she thought about doing the walk of shame back to the tiny room she was sharing with Henry. He was an inquisitive kid, and the only answers she’d be able to give would be lies. One thing she tried never to do was lie to her kid. 

“I can’t,” she told Killian, trying to infuse her deep regret into her words, “Henry.”

He nodded, cupped her face, and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. 

“I understand. Let me walk you back to your room.”

They turned back to the elevator. The hat he’d bought her was still lying on the floor. 

*********************************************************

The flight was early in the morning, so they had to get a taxi at five a.m. When Killian had asked when they were leaving, she had lied and told him after lunch. Part of her felt bad about that, but she didn’t regret the lie. It would be easier this way. 

So  she was completely shocked when she heard a British accent shout “Swan!” just before she climbed into the taxi with Henry and Ruby.

“Killian! How did you -”

“Open book, remember?” he told her with a smile. “I texted Ruby last night after I left you at your door.”

Emma turned and glared at her friend, who looked way too smug.

“Killian!” Henry exclaimed, leaning out the door. “I knew you wouldn’t miss telling us goodbye.”

“Of course not, lad,” Killian replied, giving Henry a fist bump. Then he turned to Emma hesitantly, scratching behind his ear. “May I speak to you privately?”

Emma felt slight panic well up in her. “Our flight . . . “

“It will only take a minute.”

In the end, she couldn’t say no to those pleading blue eyes. She let him guide her gently a few steps away from the taxi. 

“I realize you’ve only known me for a week,” he told her earnestly, “but I swear it feels like I’ve known you forever. I wasn’t sure if I could ever feel alive again after losing what little family I’ve ever had. Until I met you.”

Sadness filled Emma’s heart. “Please don’t say stuff like that.”

“Why shouldn’t I when it’s true?” he replied gently, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.

“ Because it only makes it harder to say goodbye.”

“It doesn’t have to be goodbye forever.”

“ Yes  it does. I’m American, you’re British. There’s an ocean between us.”

He took her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “The world’s smaller than it used to be. I have your number already. We can make it work.”

“It would never last, Killian. This has to be goodbye.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his chastely. “I’ll never forget you.”

He smiled sadly. “And I’ll think of you always, Emma Swan.”

When Emma turned to get in the taxi, she forced herself not to look back.

**************************************************

Emma wasn’t sure if post-vacation depression was a thing, but if there was, she had it. Getting back into the routine of work and Henry’s school after eight days of leisure was tough. Then there was the realization that the trip she had planned for so long was over. 

And then there was Killian. She felt like the memory of him - his eyes, his smile, his kisses – were always at the back of her mind. Tender words he had spoken to her and things they had shared were replayed over and over again. Sometimes Henry caught her daydreaming like a teenager. Killian was in her dreams when she fell asleep, too, and it was always the same dream – a replay of the end of their date. Only this time, she stayed the night and her dreams vividly tortured her with what she had missed.

They had been home for three agonizing weeks when they heard a knock at the door just as they were sitting down to breakfast. Henry looked at her in confusion.

“Are we expecting someone?”

“No,” she told Henry, holding up a hand, “stay here while I check it out.”

The last person she expected to find on the other side was Killian Jones, yet there he was, in all his handsome glory.

“Swan!” he exclaimed. “At last!”

As he surged forward to kiss her, Emma vaguely thought about her bed head, her baggy PJs, and her morning breath. But the feel of his lips against hers was so heavenly, she just melted into his kiss. 

“What?” she gasped when the kiss ended. “How are you here?”

She held tight to the lapels of his jacket as if he might disappear at any moment.

“I’ve been miserable every day since we parted, so I decided to do something about it.”

“What about your promise to Liam? What about the Barbary Coast?”

He grinned at her, his thumb dragging over her lower lip. “Boston has a harbor last time I checked. As a matter of fact, my ship’s docked there now.”

“I  don’t think  pirates in the same breath as Boston.”

Killian’s hands were distracting her as they cupped her face, his thumb drawing circles on her cheeks. 

“Emma, don’t you know what pirates search for?”

“Treasure?” she whispered.

He pressed his forehead to hers, eyes closed. “And I’ve found mine.”

There were a million logistical questions she could have asked in that moment, but not a single one entered her mind. Instead, she laughed as Killian hoisted her up in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she kissed him and knew that going their separate ways was never an option. 


End file.
